


A thousand spirits in one breast

by Lilliburlero



Category: Richard II - Shakespeare
Genre: Comment Fic, Ficlet, M/M, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:44:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3229847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilliburlero/pseuds/Lilliburlero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aumerle's tender-heartedness extends to mind-reading.</p><p>*</p><p>to angevin2's prompt: 'Aumerle/Richard, telepathy'</p>
            </blockquote>





	A thousand spirits in one breast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angevin2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angevin2/gifts).



One would have thought it would be useful, Edward reflected crossly. Especially at court. But thoughts didn't present themselves like the scrolls emerging from the mouths of the Three Living and the Three Dead in his father's psalter. Sometimes they were like sparks from an anvil, and sometimes like being wrapped in unspun fleece. They were full of interruptions and privy abbreviations. Sometimes one perceived distinctly embarrassing things (more often indicative of the body's weaknesses than its lusts), and occasionally aspersions upon oneself. But most people, particularly most courtiers, thought about others less than you could possibly imagine. And if _he ___could do it, then perhaps lots of others could too—he didn't _think_ so, but it wasn't the sort of thing you told people, unless you wanted them to think you mad, or ensorcelled. 

So he found himself more often suppressing the ability than using it. Except when the King was present. He loved Richard's thoughts: they were like him, limned in gold, somehow warm and cool at once, always dignified, even when their content was—well, you had to say _base_. To say a man's thoughts are like him invites the response _well of course they are_ , but in fact it is not always so. The Earl of Derby's thoughts were not a bit like his stolid, competent outward demeanour. Edward shuttered his mind tight when Bolingbroke was around, but if he did happen to be ambushed it was always the _itching_ that got to him first. Poor Henry: it made him curiously difficult to loathe, and quite impossible to like. 

When nothing could conceivably matter any more, he told Richard, who smiled with a hint of his old glamour. 

'Oh yes,' he said, 'I can do that too. Quite remarkably unhelpful, isn't it?' He glanced around the bare, cold chamber, and shivered. 'Once people have actually thought a thing, there's usually no way of preventing them doing it, if they're determined. And one's stuck there, waiting for them to act, knowing it's coming. Years, sometimes.' 

Edward wrapped his arms more tightly around his sovereign, forming the thought as cleanly as he could: crisp and white, like starched vestments. _Did you ever do it to me, my lord?_

Richard threw his head back and laughed. His delicate throat was grimy. 'No, Ned,' he said aloud. 'With your face? My dear, I never had to.' 

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of the extreme facial expressiveness of Oliver Rix's Aumerle in the 2013 RSC production.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Could have been Romeo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6315199) by [nemo is back (rimerle)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rimerle/pseuds/nemo%20is%20back)




End file.
